


A Box For You

by triumphforks



Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 12:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22715860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triumphforks/pseuds/triumphforks
Summary: Hiroto makes chocolates in preparation for Valentines Day.
Relationships: Kariya Masaki/Kirino Ranmaru, Kiyama Tatsuya | Kiyama Hiroto | Gran/Midorikawa Ryuuji | Reize
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

Kariya was fascinated. He’d been watching Hiroto work for what must have been over an hour, and there was still no end in sight. The kitchen bench was covered in stacks of rubber moulds, discarded cooking paper, nozzles of piping bags waiting to be cleaned; two different pots sitting on the stovetop, with another haphazard in the sink; he was sure if he opened the fridge, there’d be no space in there either. At least when all this had started there’d still been some space for him to claim and work on his homework, but it was gradually chipped away at by the ever-looming pile of moulds. 

“I still don’t get why you’re doing this,” he said flatly, resting on folded arms as he watched Hiroto painstakingly choose what must have been the best of the handmade chocolates and touching up their decorations. He’d finished his homework some time ago, but just couldn’t pull himself away from the spectacle.

“It’s important,” came the reply, somewhat distracted by the delicate work in front of him. 

“It’s not that important. Ranmaru always gets loads of chocolates, he won’t care if he misses out on one more.” He mumbled into his arms. Truth be told, he wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow - like every year, he was certain Ranmaru would be constantly called out, cornered, inundated with even more attention than his striking looks already brought him. It hadn’t been so bad last year - they’d only met up after school, when most of the circus was over - but this year they were at the same school again, and he was certain it would be terrible. 

(And that was without even _starting_ on how he felt beneath that - that he _did_ want to give him something, and he _did_ want to spend time together, without any of their other friends hanging around, and he _was_ absolutely terrified of asking that of him, so wasn’t it better to just pretend the whole day was a farce?)

“It’s _important_ ,” Hiroto repeated, the stress on that last word pulling Kariya back out from his gloomy thoughts. “Because these should mean more than any other chocolates he gets. And if they don’t, well…” Hiroto shrugged, although it didn’t go unnoticed that his apparent cold opinion of Kirino was very much at odds with how delicately he was arranging the chocolates in their box. “I still remember the first chocolates I got from Ryuuji. It might seem like such a small, childish thing, but at the time it meant so much to me. There’s nothing insignificant about that feeling.” Hiroto looked so soft, then - an air of delicacy, of effortless happiness, the kind that wasn’t held back by anything like self-doubt or anxiety. Kariya almost found himself swept up in it, almost found himself ready to declare complete confidence and approach the next day without a single doubt… but whatever spell had fallen was broken by a voice from the next room. 

“He’s thinking about the _second_ set of chocolates I gave him!” Hiroto stalled at that, balking at the half-tied ribbon around his perfectly curated box.

“What?” A brief flash of panic hit. Kariya could see the doubt clear as day on Hiroto’s face, as he was almost certainly questioning the validity of his own memory.

“Has old age set in already?” Kariya asked wryly, while internally, he forced the last lingering touches of that brief moment of serendipity from his mind. 

“You re-gifted the first chocolates I got for you to Endou!”, Ryuuji shouted (strangely… cheerfully?) from the room over. Hiroto had started working again - although this time hunched over, face red, as though he were trying to make himself invisible.

 _Fascinating,_ he thought. He wasn’t sure which was more interesting to watch - the meticulous chocolatier Hiroto, or this new one, completely-undone-by-a-single-sentence Hiroto. He was still deciding when Ryuuji came into the kitchen, a wicked half-grin on his face. “It worked out though, didn’t it? Even if those first chocolates weren’t as important as people might say they are.” He nudged Hiroto playfully, before pulling him in around the shoulder in a half-hug.

“You should still take these, though,” Hiroto fumbled through the words, quickly trying to change the subject, pushing the now complete box towards Kariya. “You don’t want to give yourself the chance to regret doing something for the person you care about.”

“Hiroto knows all about that,” Ryuuji ribbed, biting off the edge of a discarded shard of chocolate decoration. Hiroto didn’t rise to it - he knew he was already defeated. Kariya shared a grin with Ryuuji, before pushing himself off the bench and lazily (but also very carefully) pulling over the box, stacking it on his books, and taking the whole lot off the bench to go to his room.

  
“ _Fine_ ,” he said, with as much disaffection he could muster. “I’ll take them. But I hope it doesn’t mean I’ll end up old and gross like you two.” They both laughed at that, and Hiroto flicked his hand at him as though to say, _go away._ So he did; lighter than he’d felt when he had started watching the chocolate-making ordeal. He was still unsure about how he’d handle the next day, whether he’d even be able to muster up the courage to so much as take the box out of his bag - but he was a little more confident. Not as much as he had been in that brief moment of fantastical reminiscing, but… enough. Even if he did mess up, things still had the hope of working out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiroto returns home on White Day.

Hiroto had gone home alone. Well - it couldn’t be helped, with Ryuuji away on a business trip, but he was only human! Things like this still made him feel heavier, dragging his feet up the front stairs, leaning just a bit more heavily against the door, and being far more careless with kicking off his shoes. 

“I’m home!” He called out, hanging up his jacket and putting aside his keys - but there was no response.  _ Odd,  _ he thought, especially since there were very clearly voices coming from the living room. He had a feeling he knew who the second one belonged to, and it did nothing for his mood. It’s not that he didn’t  _ like _ that Kirino boy. It was just that… well, Masaki was his responsibility! He’d heard things. Like how Kirino got unnecessarily involved in  _ all  _ of the team’s worries (“ _ He likes looking after people,”  _ he vaguely recalled Masaki mumbling in defence once), or how he seemed exceptionally close to that other friend of his (“ _ Shindou’s a handful,”  _ he remembered Endou lamenting, “ _ But I can always count on Kirino to bring him around!” _ ). No, it wasn’t that he disliked him. He just had a bad feeling about it all. 

With that in mind, he was perhaps a bit more put off by the lack of response than he normally would have been. He continued on, acutely aware of the voices - muffled, but unmistakably cheerful - and felt something else, too. A twinge, that hit right in his chest.

The path to his study took him through the living room.

“ _ I’m home, _ ” he repeated, a bit more tearsely, as he entered the room. The two boys looked up from their spot on the couch - curled close together (far too close than was really appropriate, the prudish part of him thought), Masaki tucked beneath Kirino’s arm, both of them together somewhat sunken into the lounge’s plush cushions. Hiroto noticed the TV was on, although it was clear neither of them had been paying much attention. That pang hit him again in the chest, and on seeing the two, he belatedly realised what it was. 

“Welcome home,” Masaki replied… but with something about his tone, and his expression, he didn’t quite trust. He acknowledged the response, even if it was cautiously, but ultimately decided he was too worn from his own day to challenge the rowdy teen today. It didn’t help that the two of them had both smiled at him, in an eerie way, and quickly turned to almost conspiratorial whispers between themselves.

No, he wasn’t quite in the mood to deal with this today. 

So he left them to it - continuing on through the room and to his study.  _ And when I’m there, I can call Ryuuji. _

“Wait, Hiroto!” 

He stopped, shocked - and turned around to see Kirino had come up behind him. He was stopped a few steps away, still with a conspiratorial grin, and when he was sure he had his full attention, pulled out something he’d had tucked away, hidden, behind his back. It took Hiroto a moment to process what was happening. First, wide-eyed with the sudden appearance of the teen, and second, focusing his attention on what he was being offered; a box, neatly wrapped, all the way to the rosette ribbon pinned on top. 

“What..?” 

“It’s for you!”, the boy insisted, pushing the box forward with both hands, waiting patiently for him to take it.

“I told him you made the chocolates, before.” The voice was a drawl from the couch - Masaki, hanging over the back of it, watching from afar. “...  _ and _ I told him not to bother with giving anything back. But he said they were too delicious not to”

Hiroto looked at the boy on the couch, then to the one in front of him, and then, finally, to the box still hanging, waiting for him to take. He moved, somewhat shocked and without really registering it, to take the box.

“They won’t be as good,” said the boy (still smiling, but more sweetly this time). 

“Thank you,” he mustered, not really sure what else to say in this kind of situation. He’d certainly never intended for this!

“ _ Ranmaru, _ ” came a call from the couch - almost sing-song, with mock impatience. “Stop flirting with my dad, it’s weird.” 

Kirino shot him one last grin, before hurrying back to the couch. Hiroto stood still, just for a moment, to let his mind catch up to what had just happened.  _ Maybe he’d been too harsh,  _ he thought, looking at the box. That moment was all he needed to get his wits back about him. 

“Don’t cause trouble,” he warned teasingly, starting back towards his study. 

“We won’t!” came the reply from the couch. He couldn’t help a smile to himself. And he felt lighter, somehow. Before, he’d wanted to call Ryuuji to stave off feeling so alone - but now, he’d have something interesting to share, too.


End file.
